


i'm willing if you are

by yallbitter



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Implied Relationships, Lack of self care, M/M, Martin Blackwood's Poetry, jon please you need help, jon sims is a mess, martin makes great tea, tim and sasha place bets on relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:20:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26874334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yallbitter/pseuds/yallbitter
Summary: hello I am Obsessed with this podcast and I listened to it all in literally a week and I just Had to write something for itI've never written anything for this fandom before soAnyway basically Jon doesn't take care of himself and that makes Martin mad, which leads to an accidental confession.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 12
Kudos: 110





	i'm willing if you are

Jon’s first thought was that his bed was much less comfortable than he remembered.

His second thought was that he wasn’t in his bed.

The Archivist groaned as he realized that he’d fallen asleep at his desk.  
Again.

Sitting up, he removed the statement that had gotten stuck to his face, adjusted his glasses and sighed, checking the time. Was there time to go home and shower? No. OK, Jon could work with this- There had to be a shower somewhere, Martin had been using it while he stayed in the Archives.

He just had to ask Martin where it was, which shouldn’t be a problem.

Nope. 

No problem, none.

The man walked out of his office and passed by the mirror Tim had put up as a joke a few weeks ago. 

“To watch ourselves slowly fall apart!” he’d joked, and it physically hurt Jon to see how right that had been.

He was a mess-His hair was unbrushed and was almost at his chin, he had creases on his face that hadn’t been there a few months ago, and he was sure that the grey was starting to outgrow the brown in his hair. He looked OLD, and as much as Jon acted like an old man sometimes, he was just barely 30.  
30-year-olds don’t look like this, Martin was 30 and he looked years younger than Jon did in that moment. The dark rings under his eyes and the thinness of his frame couldn’t be healthy. He couldn’t go to Martin looking like this, he was his boss, he had to set a certain standard, and right now that standard was disastrous. 

Jon absent-mindedly stepped on a worm, crushing it into the carpet with a squelch that made him flinch. 

'Bugger, I’ll have to clean that up as well.'

He rubbed at the scruff on his face, ran a hand through his hair in a vague attempt to tidy it and steeled himself. There was nothing for it, he’d have to ask Martin where the shower was.

The Archivist knocked lightly at the door to the room where Martin was sleeping.

“Hello? Martin, are you awake? It’s Jon.”

The door opened to a nervous and scruffy looking Martin who appeared to have just rolled out of bed.

“Y-yes Jon, what’s wrong? Are… are you ok? You look….” He trailed off and Jon finished the sentence for him.

“Terrible? Yes, I know. Look, I was… I was wondering if you knew where the shower was? I…. fell asleep at my desk and I haven’t got time to go home.” 

Jon looked up and found that Martin was looking at him with something in his eyes that could almost be pity. Jon didn’t need pity, he needed a shower, and he needed a razor, and he….

“Again? That’s the third time this week, Jon. You have to go home sometimes!”

Jon looked at the taller man in shock. It wasn’t like Martin to have an outburst like this, and yet it made sense, didn’t it? If you poke something enough, eventually it will retaliate. And Jon had done quite a bit of poking in the past. Less so now, especially since he was trying to avoid thinking about Martin, to avoid the nervous butterflies that fluttered in his stomach when he gave him a cup of perfectly made tea, or handed him a fresh box of statements, or-

“Jon? Are you ok? Do… do you need to talk about it?” Martin’s voice was soft, a little nervous, and Jon’s heart beat just a little faster as he looked up into those kind blue eyes. His voice wavered slightly on his next sentence.

“Y-yes Martin, I’m fine. Now, where’s the shower, if you don’t mind.”

As Jon washed his hair and shaved, he wondered when Martin had gone from an annoyance to someone he wanted around. Was it when he first heard about what he’d been through with Prentiss? Maybe it was when, two weeks ago, Martin and pulled him off a stepstool and away from a falling metal box that had threated to put a serious dent in his skull. Or maybe it had been inevitable. Martin was valued by everyone in the institute. He made great tea and brought in donuts and baked goods on Fridays and always did what was asked of him, no matter how unreasonable. Martin was valued by everyone, Jon realized, except him.

The months he’d spent being frustrated, nitpicking every aspect of Martin’s work, pretending he had some excuse to belittle him and treat him that way hit him like a freight train of regret. Martin didn’t deserve that, nobody deserved that.

Jon realized that Martin had been his only target. He knew that he was underqualified for his position, he knew that it should have gone to Sasha, he knew that Tim thought he was a mess and Martin…

Martin, with his gentle smiles and blonde curls.

Martin, who had risked life and limb just to get Jon a sliver more information for a statement that barely seemed important.

Martin, who placed cups of tea carefully and removed them when they were finished.

Martin, who wrote poetry and recorded it late at night when he thought Jon had left.

He’d been so easy for Jon to hate because if he didn’t hate him Jon might love him instead and that was even worse, because the people Jon loves don’t stay. His parents didn’t, his grandmother didn’t, Georgie didn’t, and the one thing Jon wanted was for Martin to stay.

As the realization sat heavily upon him, Jon looked in the mirror and watched himself fall. He watched as though out of his own body as he collapsed to the floor with a crash and shattering of glass from a cup on the edge of the sink, and when his vision faded Martin was at the door, running inside.

When Jon woke up, he was lying in a cot with a heavy knitted blanket over him and three concerned faces above him. As his vision cleared; as much as it could without his glasses, he recognized Tim, Sasha and Martin.

“Hey, boss.” Tim spoke first, which wasn’t at all surprising. “Are you alright?”

“I’m- I’m fine. Wh- What happened?” His voice was a little croaky and he fumbled around for his glasses before Sasha handed them to him. 

All three of his assistants looked at each other nervously before Sasha spoke.

“Best we can figure from what Martin told us, you passed out from dehydration, and probably a bit of starvation.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.” Said Tim, just a hint of venom in his voice. “Oh.”

Jon opened his mouth a little hesitantly, but before he could even get out a syllable, Martin was ranting at him.

“You have to take care of yourself, Jon! You work yourself into the ground, you’ve slept at your desk every night this week and as far as I can tell you’ve barely eaten or drunk anything! It’s not healthy, and it’s not reasonable! There’s being a hard worker, Jon, and then there’s being stupid, I mean, what can you hope to achieve with this? You could have died! You could have died today, if I hadn’t heard you fall. What if you’re walking and don’t see a box fall because you’re too busy talking into one of those tapes? What am I supposed to do then? I love you, Jon, but I can’t let you keep doing this to yourself! It isn’t fair to Tim or Sasha, or- or me either! And I know you don’t like me but that’s- it’s- ugh!” 

At some point, Tim and Sasha had left the room, and Jon was still taken aback by the tirade that had just been spat at him. Martin suddenly seemed to realise what he’d said and practically sank back into himself like a turtle. It struck Jon that Martin spent quite a bit of time trying to seem smaller than he was.

“You- you love me?” 

Martin went pale, and then red in quick succession. He began to stammer an apology and Jon held up a hand to stop him.

“I think… I think maybe I love you as well. But I owe you an apology before any- before any of that. I treated you terribly, and I shouldn’t be forgiven for that. I- I really regret what I did to you, Martin, and I wish I could go back and change it. I-“

This time it was Martin who shushed him.

“Jon. I know what you’ve done to me, and I’m so so glad you apologized, and I think I…. I think I’d like to try this? Maybe? I mean if you want, obviously I don’t want to force you anything because I shouldn’t even have said that before I just got so caught up and-“

Jon smiled, a rare, genuine smile that for once reached his eyes.

“I’m in if you are, Martin.” 

As these two men decided to take a chance, another man was rather regretting taking a bet.

“Damn you Sasha, and your impeccable observation skills.”

“Don't mad that you're oblivious, Timmy-boy, that's not on me."

**Author's Note:**

> btw im an avatar of uhhhhhhh attention and if i dont get comments and kudos ill die so help a girl out please and thank you
> 
> OH and i borrowed the falling box thing from another fic but i cant remember it if u know pls pls tell me so i can credit them thank you so much  
> UPDATE: It's called look no further by inkyidigo go read it its so good thank u angst man ur a lifesaver


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